Day Three Hundred and Fifty Six
Zhivago is done for. I’d read it several times before but I don’t think I’d realized that it was produced under the Soviet regime. Somehow that just feels so wrong. I’m sure that there are deeper themes to tease out of that situation but I’m so tired and burned out right now that I don’t think I can. Thoreau is still waiting for me. If I suddenly decide to move out to the country and start growing some beans, please stop me. I don’t want to be self-reliant. I promise.
Advent is trucking merrily along and is almost over. We’ve only missed two of our scheduled activities so far but may get them crammed in still…looking at lights and building a fire may still work out.
Oh crap! I just realized we still have one gift to figure out…
Last year I spent Christmas Eve at Albertson’s desperately trying to find presents for our two little boys. Both of them were celebrating their first Christmas and we had not gotten them anything. Of course I had spent three of the last four days in the hospital with our brand new Lucius and they were both young enough not to know the difference but I didn’t want it to go down in family lore that they didn’t get presents from us on their first Christmas. That shopping trip yielded four of their current favorite things. Two soft stuffed puppies and two Dr. Seuss books. I was tired, still very fat and squishy from pregnancy, blear-eyed and dumbfounded that Fred Meyer’s wasn’t open. I’m pretty sure there are illegitamate reasons for doing your shopping on Christmas Eve in your pajamas but unexpectedly giving birth a month early isn’t one of them.
December 28th, 2008 at 2:29 pm
Considering the circumstances you did a fantastic job on Christmas last year!